


A Little Piece of Home

by doylefan22



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 16:56:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/310017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doylefan22/pseuds/doylefan22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morgana and Gwen start a new life together. (Written for the fuckyeahmerlinfemslash gift exchange with the prompt 'Morgana/Gwen happy domesticity')</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Piece of Home

It was Morgana who brought them to the little cottage, abandoned and run down, less than a league from the lake surrounding the Isle of the Blessed.

Most of the land in the area was barren, magic having fertilised it and subsequently left it desolate when it receded. There was only one spot of it left now, in the very heart of the Isle. A area of lush, beautiful foliage no wider than an arm span, with a perfect lily in the middle.

Or so she was told; Gwen hadn’t actually seen it and nor did she ever expect to. Morgana was wary of offending the spirits who’d saved her, and she couldn’t be sure how they’d react if she took anyone not of their kind into their haven. Gwen understood that and told her that it didn’t matter. And it really didn’t. Call her motives a kind of selfishness, but Gwen had little interest in the Isle and no inclination to go there, far more concerned about the woman she’d taken back into her heart. Morgana was absolutely determined to nurture that final oasis of magic and Gwen encouraged her. Her recovery from the dark places had been slow and anything whereby she wanted to grow and build rather than tear the world down had to be a good thing.

Still, someone would need to deal with the day to day trials of domesticity and the fact that their home was little more than a run-down hovel.

Unlike the sparse area around it, the cottage actually had a little grass and a few still green trees which Morgana’s white mare was very grateful of. Morgana explained that it’d once belonged to a sorceress and some magic still lingered, which oddly made Gwen feel more at ease. She was still wary of magic in many ways, remembering all the troubles and heartaches it’d caused her. Caution seemed a healthy thing but at the same time she supposed it couldn’t be all bad if it encouraged life where there was just decay elsewhere. And she wanted to see the good in it for Morgana’s sake.

“Will it do?” Morgana asked hesitantly, seeing the critical look in Gwen’s eye as she glanced around the main room once they were inside.

The remnants of the kitchen were here, an old stove just about visible under the debris. Off to the side, separated by a small partition was a bedroom of sorts. It was a far cry from what Gwen had been used to in the past few years and also from how Morgana had spent most of her days. But it was theirs to build into what they wished and there was a freedom in that.

She liked too how it was a mirror of them - once broken down and seemingly beyond repair, but now with someone willing to make it even better than it had previously been. Poetic, a good omen or complete nonsense; she wasn’t sure, but the similarities encouraged her.

“It has a lot of potential,” she finally settled upon, smiling.

“I can probably do most of the repairs in a few days,” Morgana hurried to assure.

“And leave me with what? The cleaning and cooking? You have a job to do, remember? Leave me mine.”

Morgana seemed to be considering a protest but the determination on Gwen’s face was resolute and few ever argued with it. Morgana apparently was wise enough not to try.

“Very well. But let me at least fix the roof.”

Gwen glanced up, seeing a sky that was clouding over and heavy with rain through the ruined timbers. As if to make its point, a large drop splashed down onto her cheek.

Morgana gave her a look. Gwen might have almost accused her of engineering that. Or maybe nature was just on her side.

“If you insist then,” Gwen relented with joking huff of acceptance as she wiped the raindrop away.

**********************

“Are you trying to bruise my shins?”

“Well if you were better at being directed…”

“You know I was never any good at doing as I’m told.”

Gwen couldn’t help but laugh at that, despite some of the darker memories it brought up. It was progress that she could even raise a smile about the past at all. In response, she brushed the ends of the blindfold out of the way and leaned up to press a kiss to Morgana’s cheek.

“Trust me.”

Apparently the other woman did because she stopped her complaints and let Gwen lead her through the house to whatever surprise she had waiting.

They hadn’t made an awful lot of progress on the cottage. Morgana had immediately fixed the roof and had also constructed a shelter outside for her horse. She adored the animal and didn’t want her to live as barely as they currently did. Gwen had insisted though that she leave everything else to her.

Morgana rose at dawn every morning, Gwen getting up to make her breakfast despite protests against the need, and then she left for the Isle, not returning until sunset. Gwen would then set about her task of creating their home. She had such beautiful visions for it in her mind but the clearing and cleaning alone had taken weeks and it was getting tiresome. She didn’t mind the hard work but she wanted Morgana to see the progress. And how much this meant to her.

That was what had driven her into the village with the horse and also the cart they’d brought with them from Camelot. They had a small purse of money between them - High Priestesses generally had little need of it, although it did make things simpler when there was so much to do - and Gwen had spent most of it on today’s purchase. She hoped it would be considered worth it.

“This had better be worth the bruises,” Morgana joked softly.

Fitting that that should be her concern, Gwen supposed; Morgana had never had to worry about money.

“Well it’s not that good. But it’s an improvement on the floor.”

She removed the blindfold before Morgana could question her further.

The bed was old, small and the wooden frame worn. The mattress was stuffed with hay and probably not that comfortable. But, for the last few weeks they’d slept on a pile of sacks, curled up together for warmth and covered in cloaks. This had to be better at least.

Although possibly not good enough to warrant the fierce embrace Morgana drew her into. Not that Gwen minded. Even less so when it was accompanied by a soft, surprisingly shy kiss.

“It’s perfect.”

“No it’s not.”

“Well, it’s a perfect start.”

Gwen supposed she was right there. It was somewhere for them to be together, in their new home. She shivered at the sudden possibilities of what a bed might bring but Morgana didn’t notice. She was over by the bed, running her hand over the rough wooden headboard. Then, almost as if on instinct, she was speaking those old words that Gwen had no chance of understanding and the air around them tingled for a moment as her eyes glowed. When she took her hand away again, a symbol was burned into the wood.

“It’s a protection,” Morgana said softly. “From the Goddess. I hope you don’t mind.”

Gwen didn’t but she wasn’t entirely at ease with it either. Magic had burnt her life and she wasn’t entirely sure how comfortable she was with sleeping with it. Then she glanced at Morgana and smiled wryly to herself; she was forgetting she already was.

There was just enough room on there for both of them although they would have to lay curled together. Neither of them undressed still. It was too cold and they still had no blankets. Gwen said she’d go to the nearest village and get some and Morgana promised to make her some medicinal potions she could barter with. Now that magic was acceptable in Camelot once more, such things could fetch a good price in open trade.

Morgana slept with her head on Gwen’s breast. It wasn’t entirely comfortable but she seemed so at peace there that Gwen didn’t have the heart to move her. She stroked her tangled raven hair and whispered soft stories to her.

She could almost believe that everything was all right now but to do so still seemed to be tempting fate.

**********************

“You have better things to do than brush my hair,” Morgana protested when Gwen brought up the matter yet again. “It’s fine.”

“It’s a mess,” Gwen countered, hands on hips. Her face quirked into a smile. “And could probably do with a good wash if the green is anything to go by.”

Morgana glared at her.

“I told you that was magic.”

Gwen laughed; one day she’d get Morgana to admit that was an accident and not a known part of a spell as she claimed.

“I am perfectly clean,” Morgana continued huffily, so much like her old self it was hard to remember what had changed. “Or as clean as you can be when washing involves a bucket of cold rain water outside.”

“If you’d let me get us a bath…” Gwen reasoned airily. The notion of what was important for them to purchase first had come up more than once. Gwen couldn’t push aside her old habits of seeing Morgana clean and comfortable. Morgana wanted Gwen to get things that would make her day to day chores easier. It was a constant battle of compromises.

“We don’t need a bath.”

“I’ll remind you of that next time you’re squealing about the cold water.”

Morgana arched an eyebrow. Not usually a good sign.

“We don’t need a bath,” she repeated, grabbing Gwen’s hand and dragging her outside.

The pair of them rode together on the horse, Morgana holding the reigns and refusing to say where they were going, despite Gwen’s constant asking. She tried getting annoyed, reminding Morgana that they both had too much to do for day trips, but Morgana simply smirked and continued on.

They didn’t go that far at all really, but it was a part of the barren forest that Gwen had never set foot in. They dismounted at the top of a ridge, Morgana silently leading Gwen down into some caves. Gwen had no idea how the other woman could see where she was going in the darkness and she clung to her tightly, Morgana continuing with sure foot.

“Leoma.”

At her words a shaft of light came down from the ceiling, appearing from no where apparently, and lit the room. It took a moment for Gwen’s eyes to adjust.

The cavern wasn’t large but the rocks seemed to radiate warmth. In the centre was a pool, water trickling down the rock faces into, keeping a constant flow.

Morgana turned grinned at her before stepping forward and starting to undo her own dress.

“What are you doing?” Gwen asked, realising how redundant the question was as soon as she’d said it. It was quite clear

“Taking a bath,” Morgana said, looking back over her shoulder as she started to slide her clothes off.

It was Gwen’s turn to glare at her.

In the weeks they’d been here, Gwen hadn’t seen her in any true state of undress. They’d both been exhausted and the sleeping arrangements too cold for anything to happen. Besides, they both needed a little time to ease into such intimacies. It had been a long time.

But goodness, she was beautiful still, Gwen realised as she unashamedly studied Morgana’s revealed form. Thinner than she remembered, but the curve of her hip and swell of her breast were full of such feminine charm which could easily drive Gwen to distraction. Perfect ivory skin still too. Gwen wanted to run her fingers over it.

“Well come on then,” Morgana encouraged as she moved into the water and then swam to the middle before turning back. The grin on her face was near impish.

It was pride that made Gwen do it, no matter how hard her heart was beating. She wouldn’t let Morgana see her nerves, knowing the other woman was expecting her to be all proper about this. Part of her pointed out that Arthur wouldn’t make her do such a display. But nor did Arthur make her blood pump and her passions rise as Morgana did.

She tried to be as bold as the other woman once naked, resisting the urge to hurry into the pool. Morgana simply watched her throughout - well, Gwen supposed, she’d got a good look too so it was only fair - waiting in the middle for Gwen to join her.

The water was surprisingly warm - with more magic or by nature’s design, it was hard to tell. Gwen didn’t care much as she dived under and resurfaced moments later, running her fingers back through her hair and feeling fresher than she had in weeks.

Despite the cheek of how she’d got her here, this had been a fine idea.

Gwen gasped a little when Morgana came up unexpectedly behind her, wrapping her arms round her. The press of her naked body against Gwen’s, made all sorts of long forgotten feelings arise.

“See?” Morgana purred in her ear. “Isn’t this better than a bath?”

Gwen’s response was cut short as one of Morgana’s hands slid up her body to cup her breast.

“I missed you,” Morgana confessed warmly, voice like honey.

Gwen almost surprised herself when she turned and kissed the other woman with passion, leaving her in no doubt of her own feelings. It wasn’t like her to be so bold but she couldn’t help it.

She didn’t know how long they stayed there for, kissing and touching, splashing and laughing. It felt sheltered and peaceful; their haven. There hadn’t been time for this so far, the chance to just enjoy each other’s company. There was so much to do for both of them but this moment was a perfect interlude.

Still, when they ended up laying on the floor, half in and out of the water, Gwen got to thinking. Not that she should be thinking of much when Morgana was kissing her breasts, tongue caressing over her nipples and hand stroking her inner thigh.

“We should stop,” she said breathlessly, just as Morgana’s fingers brushed against her intimately.

Morgana looked up, wet hair ruffled, lips swollen from kisses and a confused look on her face.

“Do you…not want to?”

It certainly wouldn’t be the first time they’d done it. The first time in many years perhaps but…

“I do,” Gwen assured her, cupping her cheek. “But in our bed. In our home.”

It seemed right that it was there.

Morgana smiled.

Later, as they lay entwined and her fingers having brought Gwen to the peak of pleasure, she smiled again.

“This is better.”

And it was, in every way.

*********************

As the weeks drew on, things between them were both wonderful and yet still not entirely settled. Gwen loved Morgana and told her that a thousand times. Assured her that she’d made her choice and come here to be with her and nothing would change that now. Yet still Morgana looked at her with hesitation sometimes, like she was expecting a sudden betrayal of those promises. Gwen sadly supposed that Morgana had grown to expect that, even from those she loved and may be wary of them for the rest of her days. She was more fragile than she cared to admit.

Gwen supposed it was fitting; whilst Morgana was nurturing magic, she would be nurturing Morgana’s heart, a thing that also needed the most delicate of care.

That was never more obvious than in her moments of panic.

“Where have you been?” Morgana demanded one evening when Gwen came through the door to find the other woman had already returned. Which was indeed unusual; Morgana normally stayed at the Isle until the last rays of sunlight and it wasn’t yet dark.

Gwen frowned at her tone.

“Collecting firewood,” she reasoned, although much that was obvious from the bundle in her arms. “For the fire.”

Her arched eyebrow was perhaps unkind when she saw the look on Morgana’s face. It concerned Gwen; she looked relieved, as though recovering from something worrying. Had Morgana thought something had happened to her? Or even that she might have left?

“I see,” Morgana mumbled, sitting down, awkwardly playing with the increasingly tattered sleeve on her dress. Trying to pretend she hadn’t been thinking anything at all.

Gwen deposited the bundle into the fireplace, wiped her hands clean on her apron and then moved over Morgana and tilted her chin up. The kiss was soft and delicate, full of all the gentle reassurance she could muster.

“Unless you’d prefer no fire,” she teased. “To give us an excuse to huddle up together.”

The smile that spread across Morgana’s face almost chased the shadows of doubt there away. It made her look so very young again.

“Do we need one?” she asked and Gwen wondered if she knew just how much she captured her in those moments of vulnerability.

She didn’t mention it though and simply kissed Morgana again.

**********************

Morgana still preferred to sleep half draped over Gwen. Of course, Gwen never complained about this, fingers idly stroking her back, still amazed now about the softness of her skin.

Morgana preferred to sleep naked too and Gwen had never complained about that either. Now they had new blankets, it was perfectly warm.

“You need a new dress,” Gwen murmured as they lay peacefully entwined, knowing from the other woman’s breathing that she wasn’t asleep.

“The old one is fine,” Morgana returned softly.

“It’s almost in tatters,” Gwen countered. “Besides black doesn’t suit you. You’re too pale.”

Morgana lifted her head, smiling up at her. Gwen was pleased; handling her was a delicate art and it was hard to know sometimes what would make her laugh and what would make her upset.

It art she was clearly getting the hang of.

“You always did have exquisite taste,” Morgana reasoned before a playful smirk tugged at her lips. “Appropriate, I suppose, since you taste exquisite too.”

She kissed her way along Gwen’s collarbone, mouth wet against her skin, and Gwen had to muster all her focus to not get distracted.

“Then clearly you should listen to me; I’ll make you a new dress.”

Morgana ceased her kisses to look up at her again.

“You really don’t have to go to all that trouble. We can visit a market.”

“No, I want to,” Gwen insisted before becoming more playful herself. “And who knows your form and fit better than I?”

Her hand skirted slowly up Morgana’s side just to prove her point. Apparently, that settled it.

“What colour did you have in mind?” Morgana asked, eyes fluttering closed a moment at the touch.

“Green. Just right for my lady of the forest.”

When Morgana opened her eyes again it was to look at her in total adoration. If the fervour of her kisses were any indication, she liked the idea.

**********************

Gwen had once played games with a grain merchant’s son. He’d been the husband and she’d been the wife. He would stomp into the wood shed where she’d set up their ‘home’, complaining about his day, and she’d have some supper ready for him. Normally a bowl of water that she pretended was soup, which she dished up whilst berating him for stomping his muddy boots over the floor she’d spent all day cleaning.

In her games of happy homes, she’d never imagined anything like this. Nor could she have imagined back then that she’d find something infinitely better than her childish mind could dream of.

Morgana never trailed mud in for a start. Whatever the weather, she returned in her new green dress and cloak looking fresh faced, happy and quite spotless. As though nature itself didn’t want to sully her.

She seemed more at ease every day. More confident, more trusting and happier, with far fewer moments of doubt. The state of their home mirrored that; once it was finally clean and stripped back to what was useful, they started to rebuild. As they’d done with their relationship. Gwen liked the analogy, as silly as it was.

Always thorough, Gwen began her work on one side of the main room and moved her way across. The old table was still usable but in a rough way. She took some of Morgana’s potions and sold them, using the money to pay the local carpenter to teach her a few basic skills. Nothing fancy, simply how to do basic repairs and improve the quality of a worn piece. He was happy enough to teach her, throwing some old tools into the bargain too when he was pleased with her progress.

Morgana frowned at her in soft surprise when she came home one evening and found Gwen outside, vigorously rubbing the surface smooth with some paper he’d give her - crushed shells and seeds stuck to parchment with tree gum. It worked well.

“I didn’t know you had carpentry skills,” she commented, seeming impressed.

Gwen wiped her brow, grinning.

“I like to surprise you occasionally.”

The next time was with drapes and curtains as well as new bed clothes and a table cloth. Gwen had always been a fine seamstress and it was little challenge for her to make such basics. She kept them hidden from Morgana as they were completed though - not hard given how tired she was when she returned most days - waiting until she had all done before setting up the house and awaiting her return.

Morgana’s face was a picture when she entered. She looked shocked for a moment, clearly not expecting such a transformation at all, and then a beaming smile spread across her face, the likes of which Gwen hadn’t seen in far too long.

“It’s perfect,” she whispered, drawing Gwen into a tight embrace.

No quite, Gwen thought, but it looked so much more like a comfortable home like this.

“We’ll be happy here,” Morgana added.

Gwen pulled back, stroking a hand through the other woman’s hair. It seemed easier for her to initiate affection now than it had back in their younger days. They were more equals and she had the confidence for it.

“We are happy here,” she corrected.

Morgana’s smile confirmed that.

**********************

Flowers brightened up a home like nothing else could, even a simple home like their cottage. Gwen picked fresh ones every couple of days, travelling some distance to do so but not minded one bit.

One evening, when going through her ritual of removing the wilted blooms, Morgana reached out for her wrist and stopped her.

“You don’t have to,” she said quietly, unusual hesitation in her voice.

Gwen wasn’t sure what that was about until Morgana took a deep breath and continued.

The words were unintelligible to Gwen. It was the language of the old ways. Of magic. Morgana’s hand rested lightly over the blooms, her eyes glowed and then what was once dead and dying bloomed back into life.

Gwen was still wary of magic and yet it was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever seen.

Morgana looked at her nervously, trying to judge her reaction. She rarely performed magic in front of Gwen and never so openly as this, knowing how Gwen was still not entirely comfortable with it. It was final hurdle between them and Morgana clearly want to test the waters to see how far they’d progressed.

It was further than even Gwen herself had realised.

“That’s incredible,” she assured the other woman with soft encouragement.

Morgana’s smile was distinctly relieved.

“It’s just a little thing,” she almost dismissed. “But I can do more. I don’t want this to be like old times with you looking after me. I want to look after you too.”

Gwen sat in the seat next to hers, taking her hands.

“It isn’t like that,” she soothed. “I enjoy working here and making this into our home. It’s…satisfying. To see it get better every day. You have other things you need to do and I understand that.”

Morgana squeezed her hand in thanks, although Gwen suspected this wasn’t the last time she’d hear protests of this kind from the other woman. For now though, Morgana merely looked thoughtful, hesitating just a moment before she spoke again.

“Would you like to see it?”

“See what?”

“What I’ve been doing on the Isle.”

Gwen didn’t answer straight away and Morgana’s face fell.

“You don’t have to,” she said quickly, apparently wanting to dismiss the idea. She tried to stand but Gwen wouldn’t let her hands go.

“I didn’t think the spirits of the old kind wanted me there,” she reasoned.

“I’ve done everything they’ve asked me so far. They owe me this one indulgence.”

Yes, a small part of Gwen did still fear magic. She’d been taught since she was a child to hate it. She’d been told that it was cruel and wrong, that only evil spawned from it and that much she had certainly seen.

But there was beauty too, something she’d only seen in more recent times. And whilst she’d never entertained any wish to go to the Isle, it was clear in Morgana’s face just how much this meant to her.

“Then, yes, I’d like to see it.”

**********************

Less than a year ago, the last oasis of magic in the world had been narrower than an arm’s span across. Now it covered an entire courtyard.

Lush green vines entwined over every surface,seeming to feed magic back into everything they touched. Large, beautiful flowers of a type Gwen hadn’t seen before were in full bloom, appearing to lighten the place up even though the sky overhead remained cold and grey. The once crumbling walls of the castle were purest white again where the foliage reached them. The fountain was half within this circle of new life and half outside it, Gwen walking in fascination to find that one side looked white and brand new and the other was still a grey tumbling ruin. One of the female figurines intersected the line and she was half in ruin and half perfection.

It was the most remarkable thing Gwen had ever seen. And she had seen a lot.

Morgana was silent, watching her taking it all in, giving her the time. The other woman been silent most of the morning in fact, sitting so stoically on the boat ride over that Gwen almost asked if she’d changed her mind. But now her inner thoughts were quite clear as she studied her lover’s reaction; she wanted Gwen’s approval.

Gwen walked over to her, taking both of her hands, smiling at her.

“This is…I don’t have words for it. You’ve done all this?”

Morgana nodded.

“I have to keep nurturing the spells and enchantments or they’ll fade again. There isn’t enough magic here yet to sustain them. One day it’ll be strong enough to grow on its own.”

“You’ve done a remarkable job,” Gwen beamed. “I’m so proud.”

Much to her surprised, Morgana’s expression instantly saddened at that. Not really the reaction Gwen had been hoping for.

“Sorry,” she added hurriedly with a wince. “Was that patronising?”

“No,” Morgana insisted. “It’s just…no one’s ever said that to me before. Except Morgause.”

Gwen felt sympathy tug at her heart. She had no love for the woman considering what had happened, but she had been Morgana’s sister. She’d saved her from death and it was clear that they’d loved each other greatly.

“Do you think you’ll see her again?” she asked, caressing her cheek in comfort.

“I hope so. I hope if I finish this, she’ll be allowed to come here.”

Gwen allowed her that small selfishness. She too was guilty of such, after all.

“And she will be as proud of you and all you’ve done here as I am.”

There was a long moment of silence between them as they embraced, Morgana burying her head in Gwen’s neck, seeming to breathe her in. It felt very much like that last barrier had just faded away.

“You,” Gwen said with a smile, fussing with straightening Morgana’s cloak when they finally parted, “ will be Queen of this Isle. And I’ll be your-”

“Concubine?”

The smirk on Morgana’s face was filled with playful amusement. It was as though a great weight had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders.

“I was going to say ‘consort’,” Gwen retorted, giving her a dry look of scolding.

“I suppose we can come to an arrangement.”

After a moment of companionable amusement shared between them, Morgana took Gwen’s hand again, both women taking a moment to look once more at what she’d created.

“I’d like this to be our home one day,” Morgana confessed quietly. “I’d like to bring the remaining people of magic here and leave the world outside behind.”

And why not? It held little but bad memories for her, Gwen supposed. She of all people could understand Morgana’s need for a fresh start.

“And…I’d be allowed to come?”

She couldn’t imagine Morgana would want to go without her but the prospect frightened her enough that she couldn’t leave it hanging.

Fortunately, Morgana smiled.

“’Queen’ remember? I can do whatever I like.” Her expression turned a little more serious,pleading hidden in the depths of her eyes. “Would you follow me here, Gwen?”

There was no hesitation this time.

“Here….” Gwen said lightly, as though it was the simplest thing in the world, “anywhere. I do have one condition though.”

Morgana turned, raising a perfect eyebrow at her.

“Oh yes?”

“I’m not making drapes for all those windows.”

Gwen didn’t know if it was fanciful nonsense but she could swear that as Morgana laughed and then kissed her into silence, more flowers came into bloom.

She chose to believe it.


End file.
